


Self-Interests

by AnotherRose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crossroads Deals & Demons, F/M, Loyalty, One Night Stands, Smut, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:54:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24150160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherRose/pseuds/AnotherRose
Summary: Julie Parnell has long been an under achiever in life. With few exceptions, she lives like water, flowing down the easiest way in the direction of the lowest point. When her mother, a natural witch, subjects her to her latest folly, Julie will be faced questions of responsibility, loyalty and just what sins she can life with for the sake of her own self-interest.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s)





	1. Stasis

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> A legal office, a fight, cityscape and a one night stand, I'm trusting readers to identify him without spelling it out. 
> 
> I expect it will be too romantic for some and not nearly romantic enough for others. The plan is to leave room at the end for a second part in a series. We'll see how this one goes first. I'm trying another way of breaking this down into bite size pieces that I can get through. 
> 
> I like to add musical selections that I listened to, so for those of you interested: Sia - Soon We'll Be Found
> 
> Please read and review!

Putting the tray of coffee down, her eyes drift to today’s questions her boss will be taking into the courtroom. The lawyer has been off his game for a few weeks now and so she has been looking over his shoulder at his work. If he is shitty at his job, she won't have a job when the small law firm collapses.

_ When he went, had you gone and had she, if she wanted to and were able, for the time being excluding all the restraints on her not to go, gone also, would he have brought you, meaning you and she, with him to the station? _

This question stands out from the rest. Mr Denoso turns the questions over and looks up at her pointedly .

“Julie? We’re in a meeting, did you want something?” 

Looking up from the page at her boss and an employee currently preparing for the bar exam, Julie hesitates. It might be a little bit embarrassing to point out to him in front of the junior but if she doesn’t catch it now, he might actually use that in a courtroom. 

“You want to reconsider this question.” She tells him. 

Irritated, he looks at the younger man knowingly. 

“On what basis?” 

“It should be taken out back and shot to put it out of its misery.” She informs him and heads out of the boardroom. “It would be a kindness.” 

“You have a smart mouth, Julie. I'd thank you to watch it and not worry about how I do my job.” 

Julie, the under-performer, goes back to her desk where the receptionist is sorting through the mail for the small law firm. They haven’t fired Julie because they have gone through so much support staff, they have learned anyone working here needs thick skin. And thus they put up with Julie where most employers wouldn’t. Despite her sharp tongue and being a college drop-out, she is good at what she does, looks professional for clients each day and doesn’t break-down crying when the boss comes back early drunk, blotchy-face and screaming at his employees. There is a cost of being a shitty boss and that is either shitty employees or employees with bad attitudes. 

Still, with Julie’s mother being what she is, there is a high possibility that she is here because her mother put her here. The joys of having an overbearing, manipulative and interfering mother. It was hard to put all of her effort into anything because she second guessed everything, wondering if her mother got her there. 

“See ya, Natalie!” The receptionist answers the phone and smiles and waves at Julie as she heads out. 

Turning off her phone, Julie hops into her two-door suzuki swift and scoots between lanes of traffic in her little run-about at nearly twice the speed limit. Reaching the dojo in an industrial warehouse, she parks up, grabs her sports bag and runs inside. 

“Thought you were a no-show!” 

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” Julie rarely gets an opportunity to have an actual fight. There aren’t a lot of female opponents in her area and most of the guys don’t want to fight her. She doesn’t want to fight most of them either. Especially the ones with backgrounds in jiu jitsu. Having a guy wrapping himself around her isn’t her idea of a good time. Still, she takes her fights where she can get them. 

Darrel seems to be an okay guy and he’s only a little newer at Mixed Martial Arts than she is. 

“Get changed!” Joshua calls to her and she raises a hand in acknowledgement. 

Stripping down to her underwear and throwing on leggings and just staying in her sports bra, she dumps her things in her bag and hurries out. 

“You coming from the office? I thought you had the day off.” 

“So did I. Satan wanted files from records, so I spent an hour at city hall this morning.” She explains as Joshua helps her wrap her hands. She had named her boss Satan after she saw the shades of red he turns when he screams at people. 

“This hair isn’t gonna work. I’ll braid it for you quick and ask Darrel to resist grabbing but this isn’t-” 

“I can’t braid my hair tightly to my scalp if I’m coming from the office. I’m sorry.” 

Her teacher isn’t impressed but let’s them go ahead and fight. Straight out of the gate, she takes a shot to the head and almost goes down. She didn’t see that coming. At first, she feels as though she fell in a cold pool. Then she slams back into the present and focuses her attention away from work. 

“Are you okay? Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Darrel looks like he is going to have a heart attack. He just hit a woman and she went down to one knee. 

With a shake of her head, she launches up and punches him in the face, knocking him back a step and then jab, cross, knee, uppercut, jab, cross… and she flows with the well practiced combinations she was taught until he stumbles down and falls on one knee himself. She hasn't had a lot of fights but she has made sure she gets plenty of practice. 

“There she is. Nice work, Julie!” Joshua encourages his students. “Darrel, you can do better. Don’t forget defense and show her some of your own combinations.” 

Darrel comes back in force and eventually wins the fight when Julie needs to concede. Still, bruises and all, she’s pleased with herself. She put up a good fight against a man much larger than her. She's learning and this is part of the process. 

After driving home to finish with a jog and a shower, she chops up chicken, asparagus, green beans, dill and adds arborio rice with some favorite herbs for a chicken risotto in the dutch oven. Julie is a lazy cook and anything she can’t cook in either the crock pot or dutch oven just isn’t going to happen. She will wash one pot and that is all the pots she is willing to wash. There’s enough for four servings, so she puts two in freezer bags, leaves one in the fridge and eats the fourth. 

Her phone alerts her to a text from Erica. 

**$$$**

A new club is opening, called money. If it has a good marketing strategy, it will blow up in its first weeks and months. Especially opening night. Julie isn’t a fan because these opening nights are so crowded there isn’t any space to dance. She texts her friend back.

**No VIP pass.**

She has told her friends repeatedly that if she doesn’t have VIP passes, she is done with opening nights. 

Another text comes in Akua. 

**$$$**

She sighs and sends the same message. 

**No VIP pass**

If they are going to money, she is going to wear something more low key and go find a dive to hang out in for a couple of cocktails to feel like she did something and then go home. She is getting the feeling that the majority of people her age don’t even go to clubs. It is mostly the past time of an older generation because when she talks to people, she is always in the minority. Still, she loves to dance and she loves a couple of drinks. And when the atmosphere is right, it feels like the best place in the world to be in. 

Another message comes in from Erica. 

**Scored VIP!**

That is hopeful. Julie texts back: 

**Pics or it didn’t happen**

Previous experience has said that they will manage to find a familiar bartender or DJ or bouncer who promises to get them in VIP. But it is a fifty fifty whether they manage to come through with that VIP access when they get to the door. 

Erica responds: 

**No pass. But Gaz promise**

It isn’t that it won’t work, it is that it might not work and Julie isn’t interested in being crushed in a crowd of people without enough space on the dance floor to have a good time. 

**Have fun1 Cya nxt wk**

She texted back impatiently and decided no feather boars tonight. She goes to the bathroom and gets to work caking on enough makeup to cover up the black eye forming. She hadn’t taken any hits to the face bad enough to cause a lot of swelling but she always bruised easily and by late tonight, that bruised eye would look dark and angry. It takes a while, but she gets to the point that she has sufficiently caked on enough that no one could see her actual skin through the makeup. 

Martini rose in hand, and she went to her little closet. Unlike her friends, Julie is not a fashionista. She was taught to value a small selection of favorites made well. She is very choosy about what she buys and while some of it was clearance or discount, she will splurge if she can see high quality fabric, stitching and decorations. Sadly, well made clothing is hard to find these days and she sees poor quality pieces in some very expensive stores. It means she can spend hours shopping and come home empty handed.

Picking out a jean skirt with a backless top and going bra-less, she throws on a pair of stilettos and heads out. It is as she clomps down the stairs of her apartment and is already right downtown that she appreciates the deal she made. Her landlord lives in Mexico and can’t be available to take care of issues, doesn’t want the expense of paying someone to maintain his one storefront property with two apartments above and doesn’t want anyone reporting him. What would be extremely expensive real estate, she gets to rent for close to half of market value. Only if her toilet breaks or the light in the stairwell goes out, the tenants resolve it themselves. There isn’t a chance in hell she could afford her own apartment otherwise. 

The night air is exciting and filled with promise. It would be more fun with her friends but Julie isn't solidly attached to going out with friends. 

Crossing the busy street to the convenience store, Eddie pulls out her pack of gum for her. 

“Julie! Where you go tonight?” He grins at her as she drops two bills on the counter. The Chinese convenience store owner works nights and is very familiar with her. He often sees her come down at stupid hours in puppy shaped slippers and her hair in curlers in just sleep shorts and tank top in her favorite bra-less state to pick up milk, ice, coffee and whatever else he is selling for much more than it would cost at a grocery store. Her existence seems to amuse him and she’s happy to entertain. 

“Hi Eddie!” She shrugs and looks through the small blank space out the window so that she can see the street outside the tiny convenience store. “I hadn’t decided just yet.” 

“New club open, just a couple block. Lots come in go to.” He tells her. 

She leans on the counter. “Yeah, but it’s gonna be packed! How much ass grabbing can I put up with for one night?” She whines. “I’m thinking of Roxie’s.” 

He grins slyly at her. “You go dyke bar?”

“Drinks are cheaper.” She grins back and smacks the counter she is leaning on and strides out on her heels. 

“Have fun, Julie!”

“Kick some ass, Eddie!” 

They became friendly after she was in his store when he was being held up. He grabbed the gun and started whaling on his attacker until she felt sorry for the guy Eddie was beating. She has come to learn that Eddie might not be a big guy and his English could do with a polish but he is a total badass. Watching what he could do inspired her to sign up for Mixed Martial Arts. 

Walking through the entertainment district, she sees the mass of people and spotlights in the sky and walks into the road to avoid the mess. Drivers honk at her blocking a lane but she flips them off and keeps walking. It isn’t her fault that the sidewalk is full and much too skinny for the volume of people using it. If she waits on that slip of sidewalk it could take half an hour just to get past all those people spilling out of the club. Two doors down, she sees Roxies isn’t in much better shape. It appears she isn’t the only woman who decided to pass on going to Money’s premiere night. She keeps walking and finds a place with more of a country feel. Not really her kind of thing but it looks relatively busy without the chaos further down the street. 

There aren’t any seats left and the DJ should be drop-kicked for playing 90’s music in the 2000’s in her opinion. But beggars can’t be choosers. When she has a difficult time getting one of the bartender's attention, she considers heading home and giving up. 

“What’ll you have?” A tall glass of handsome asks her over the music and people. 

Looking him up and down, a slow smile creeps onto her face. He does not look like her usual type. The good points are the broad shoulders, height, pretty green eyes and well balanced features and hair on the cusp between dark blond and light brown. Less attractive is that it's stuffed into a cheap, poorly made suit but she decides she can look past the faults and enjoy the view. 

“Le Citron Grey Goose!” She looks around. “Looks like it will be awhile!” 

With a skill for getting attention that she wouldn’t expect from someone wearing that suit, he snags a bartender and places an order. Not that she hasn’t seen people who can do a better job of getting a bartender in a busy place than she does, they have always been rude while doing it. She can’t see what he did differently from her that worked without being rude, but it worked. Some people have it and apparently, she just isn’t one of those people. 

Having to admit, she’s a little impressed, she chides herself for judging a book by it’s cover. 

He gets what looks like a whiskey neat and hands Julie her vodka. He holds his hand out to her and she shakes his hand. 

“Julie!” She yells near his ear. 

“Chris!” He yells back. 

They smile and take sips of their drinks watching each other. 

“You’re not from around here!” She points out. 

“I’m kinda nomadic, US Marshall!” 

Amused, she pretends she believes him. She’s seen enough law enforcement through her mother’s dealings and through work to know he’s full of shit. She supposes he doesn’t spend a lot of time in cities and thinks he needs to make up a story. Understandable in this atmosphere. It’s too loud to have a real conversation and it’s hard to sum up who you are in an interesting way in such brief exchanges. 

“You?” He asks. 

“Legal assistant!” Not really, because she doesn’t have the completed college education for that but it creates less questions than legal support clerk. They finish their small drinks and she puts her glass on the bar and offers her hand to him. “Wanna dance?” 

He finishes his whiskey quickly and nods. 

It is quickly clear that while he isn’t a bad dancer, he isn’t as gifted as she is. So she makes it easier on him. Pressing her body up against him, she leads his hips to the music to skip every other beat and then hangs her forearms over his shoulders and grins up at him. 

After a long week at work, this is just what she needed. She had only intended to dance, but he is especially yummy. She closes her eyes and lets herself flow with the beat of an awful song but can’t bring herself to care about right now. She is losing herself into the crowd and the crowd is becoming one body of ritualistic dance. Her body is still sore from her fight earlier today but she is enjoying letting everything go too much to care what her body has to say about overworking it. 

Two song’s later, she opens her eyes and looks at Chris who is eye fucking her. 

Yes. 

It is an unspoken answer to a question he didn’t ask, but he reads it just fine. Placing a broad hand on her lower back, he escorts her from the bar. 

“My hotel’s on Charles.”

His place is closer. Looks like he didn’t stray far when he left his hotel room. 

“One sec.” He pulls out his phone and calls. “Sam, get a second room. I’ve got company.” He grins at her. 

“Is that on taxpayers dime?” She chuckles leaning up to him and kissing him. It’s fun to play along with his lie. 

“Nah… course not.” He pecks her on the lips and they walk hand in hand for the half block and to a cheap old 60’s hotel that is mostly busy with hookers and bikers. Again, not her crowd but she figures she can live a little. 

The moment he gets her into his room, they both become a little shy. It isn’t her first one night stand, but she is used to more aggressive men. This is a new experience and he is boyishly cute as he looks her up and down in appreciation. Julie doesn’t mind taking her time. There isn’t any hurry. 

He cups her face and plants a soft kiss on hers. They move closer and begin to move in sync as they get a sense of each other and what they want. He’s a simple man with simple wants. Julie can appreciate that too. Sex doesn’t always have to be brutally pornographic. Soon she is on her back and sighing contentedly as he pampers her with a slow, sweet kiss between her thighs. He coaxes her to build up but instead of hurrying her over that blissful edge, he teases her just a little further, not in a power play of orgasm denial but out of patience. 

She moans quietly through a long, gentle, but full bodied orgasm. A style of orgasm isn't one she had experienced before but is quickly becoming a fan of. It’s something like a richer, full bodied red wine than her usual punch of tequila found on one night stands.

There is a long pause and the rustle of plastic but she's staring at the ceiling, still catching her breath as he works the condom on. Chris drops kisses on her body and pauses to nuzzle her breasts before he moves up and enters. She had almost forgotten that they hadn’t even reached sex yet. His entrance is a little unexpected but welcome. She expresses her welcome caressing his back, moaning softly and kissing his neck. 

“Yes.” She encourages him. 

Julie is still recovering from her last orgasm but what she wants more than anything right now is to reciprocate. He pants in her ear and isn’t that just one of the sexiest things to listen to? She finds his rhythm and firmly matches him, thrust for slow thrust. As he begins to build, her body decides that she wants in on this ride. Soon she isn’t just encouraging him to feel him release because she has her own invested. 

“Chris…” she whines. 

He shivers above her and moves with more ardor. And if that doesn’t start sparks, but she refuses to let go. She thinks if she can hang in there, she can climax with him. She wants him to hurry, she might miss her window and so she pleads. 

“Oh please, I’m here!” She whispers urgently and pushes her hips up off the bed to meet him. A difficult feat considering his size and weight. “I need you to cum.” If he doesn't get to that point with her soon, she might miss her window and have to start over. 

Chris grunts and starts moving hard and really fast. “I’m comin', baby.” He promises. 

“Yes…” her voice is higher than usual. Feeling needy and so close but not letting herself release she cries with each thrust. It takes a lot of restraint to hang in there. 

And then he brings sweet relief. He cries out and bottoms out and grinds down inside her wrenching her over the edge as though he were picking her up and throwing her into a pool of water. She laughs and cries out in pleasure at once. She can feel him pulsing inside her, even through the condom and isn’t that just one of her favorite things ever? She hangs from his back, her entire body tense and focusing her mind only on pleasure. He grinds them through a few more pumps, wringing her out and exhausting her. He rolls off and they collapse back on the bed. 

Pick the right guy and one night stands can be a lot of fun. This is her third and she is pleased with her selections so far. 

Catching her breath, she sits up and starts getting dressed and pops some bubblegum. He looks over at her, sleepy but then shocked. She is tired out and she has a three block walk home. But then he looks angry. 

He is up on his knees and investigating her face closely. 

“Who the hell did this?” 

Not having any idea what he is referring to she looks around for a mirror. 

“What?” 

“The shiner and these bruises?” He growls.

Then she remembers and smiles. 

“I’m training in MMA. I had a fight this afternoon.” She points to her eye and laughs a little embarrassed. “I lost.” 

He chuckles. “I thought you were going to need a knight in shining armor for a minute there.”

“I don’t know… you came through for me pretty well back there. I was worried I was going to miss my window.” 

He shares a smile and a small kiss. “You can stay. I could come through for you a few more times.” 

“Tempting but I’ve had a long day and didn’t plan for this. When I crash, I might not want to get up for the next week.” And she isn’t lying. Sitting on his bed, she doesn’t want to crash out cold in a stranger's shady hotel room who hasn’t told her the truth about what he does for a living and probably hasn’t told her his real name. “But thank you for… a _ lovely _ evening.” 

They part ways and she walks the three blocks home bone tired but very happy. 


	2. Sold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mother Dearest has made a deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 
> 
> Please read and review!

For over an hour, a teenager has been playing a wooden drum, badly, trying to get money from passers by. Strictly speaking, the term for it is called busking but she doesn’t want to elevate it that high by calling it just that. Julie mostly hears him slapping around her nerves for the purposes of causing her to slowly lose her mind. 

Two figures appear in Julie’s apartment and she almost jumps out of her skin. 

“Is the buzzer broken, mother?” And she says mother rather than Mum, knowing how much it annoys the woman. 

“You wouldn’t have let me in.” That she almost sounds hurt is an insult to Julie’s intelligence. 

The man dressed in a black suit and long coat smirks at the two women. “The apple didn’t fall far from the tree.” The unfamiliar Englishman’s presence is as unwelcome as her mother. And the kid drumming downstairs. Will he stop already? 

“Only in looks. She hasn’t any sympathy for her dear mother.” The bitch mock whispers to him. 

“You only show up when you have or are going to do something shitty to me. What is it now?” 

The pouty look her mother returns serves nothing to help matters. Julie wishes she had learned sigils that would keep her mother out of her apartment. 

“I made a small deal in return for my first born.” 

Julie’s eyes darken and her blood runs cold. She looks at the man and narrows her eyes. “Rumplestiltskin.” 

He blinks and then smiles as he realizes what she was trying. 

She shrugs. “Eh, it was worth a try.” She looks at her mother, not even disappointed anymore. “It is just impossible to underestimate you, isn’t it? As soon as I think you’ve gone as low as you can go, you manage to sink lower.” 

Her mother looks her up and down. “You smell like sex and sweat and you just got out of bed at four o’clock in the afternoon. Take a look in the mirror before you judge me.” 

“You sold your own daughter!” 

“It’s only temporary!” 

“Imagine all the unsavory things that can happen within that temporary timeline.” Julie folds her arms. “I have a job and a life. You’re ruining my life.” 

“I took a chance and had her, hoping for a natural witch like myself. Of course, all of my luck with her has been the worst. She is my thankless, ungifted, talented child and I have sacrificed so much for her and my daughter does nothing but complain!” 

Ignoring the mother-daughter spat, the man holds his hand out. 

“Crowley.” He introduces himself but Julie ignores his hand. He isn’t concerned. It doesn’t change the situation. “I have use of your services for ten years. Our needs for a human woman without any talents are minimal. We just need you strategically placed..” He smiles charmingly at her but she can feel a certain slimeyness about him that is subtle and discomforting. “We’re bumping up your position within the legal system and you’re going to be my eyes and ears. Sometimes clean records. That sort of thing. Nothing especially trying.” 

That this cost ten years of her life and not her entire life or her soul, meant that the demon she had made this deal with had limitations on what he could demand. As familiar as Julie is with her mother, her mother barely had a hand in raising her but the responsibility was pressed onto many peoples backs. How many times had her mother ditched her on neighbors doorsteps and picked her up almost a week later and called it a fun sleepover? Such that much of Julie’s morals were picked up from the general consensus of the public. 

“And if I refuse?” 

“A month of torture for every year you failed to deliver service, followed by a slow, agonizing death.” He answers cheerfully. No doubt, this would be equally entertaining for the bastard.

“Oh, is that all?” She wants to smack him in the face. No. She wants to smack her mother in the face. “And what do you get in return?” Julie asks her mother. 

“Oh, a boost in power for my next spell!” Her mother chirps happily. “I want to call on-” 

“Don’t!” Julie cut her off. “I don’t want to know anything about your lame plans.” 

Crowley points at Julie. “A woman after my own heart.” Then he tells her: “My people are working on the paperwork and logistics. Be ready for your new legal age, degrees and position at the Department of Justice.” 

Julie groans. “More responsibility?” She is happy going to work Monday to Friday and partying on the weekends. She isn’t asking for a lot in life. 

“Even better.” He says smugly. 

And the two of them leave as unceremoniously as they arrived.

Flopping back on the couch, Julie wonders how her mother can get away with making this deal. There has to be some sort of loophole. Whenever her mother does these things, Julie rides them out. Like the drummer outside. 

Standing up from the couch, she marches down two flights of stairs with her wallet in hand and throws open the front door. He looks up at her and grins. 

“I’m going to pretend that I don’t know you need a permit to be busking. Is that the best you can drum?” 

When he doesn’t say anything she nods patronizingly. “Interesting.” She clears her throat. “If I give you ten dollars, can you pretend to busk somewhere else and not come back here until you can keep a rhythm?” She asks as she hangs out the door. 

Looking a little shell shocked, he nods and accepts her ten dollar bill. 

“Thanks!” She smiles wolfishly. “Next time, I’m just calling city hall about the guy busking out here without a permit. Fines are fun!” 

She goes back into the tiny hallway beside the shop she lives above and closes the door. 

The drumming has stopped. 

It was bitchy. It was mean. And oh it felt so good to make him stop! 

Victory! 

Who’s to say she can’t stop her mother? Why can’t she take back control over her next ten years. She had plans to spend the next ten years working a drole job and going out to party on her fake identification every weekend. It sounded pretty sweet to her. 

As a kid, her mother had been the most terrifying person on the planet. Julie couldn’t know what the full extent her powers were as a witch. For so long she walked on eggshells trying to be perfect. And then the day came, somewhere in her teens when she started to hate the woman. She stopped wanting her mother’s love and hoped every night that her mother would die. A lightning strike or particularly virulent STD that didn’t respond to medications. Something. Anything. Not that she had reached the point of actively seeing her death. She knew there are people trying to kill her mother. Some of them had kidnapped her as a child. They were under the mistaken impression that her mother cared. When they clued in that she didn’t care, they had more mercy than the witch. 

Going into a shoe box in the back of her closet, Julie pulled out an old list of contacts and decided it was time to look into crossroad deals. 

“Hello? Pamela?” 

_ “Speaking.”  _ A cheery voice replies. Being psychic doesn’t help over a long distance phone call. Julie bites back a smile. 

“It’s me, Julie. Julie Parnell.” 

There is a long silence. 

_ “Are you in trouble?”  _

That was blunt. And guarded. She decides to be just as blunt. It feels like she just gave Julie permission. 

“Um… might be. You see, Mum sold me ten years of my life in service to a crossroads demon. It doesn’t appear like big trouble yet but it’s kinda got that blank cheque feel to it.” 

_ “This isn’t my wheelhouse, but I’ll give Pastor Jim Murphy a call.”  _ She hangs up. 

It’s sudden and abrupt. Not the response from the warm woman Julie remembers. This is how her mother sabotages anything positive in Julie’s life. She hasn’t spoken to Pamela in years but she can hazard a guess that her mother double crossed her. Will Pamela actually call Jim Murphy? Will he know how to help her? 

Julie’s answer comes two days later. 

“Julie Parnell?”

“Yeah, hiccup!” Julie responds over the phone. She has been drinking alone in her apartment all day. 

“This is James Murphy, pastor of the Sacrament Lutheran Church of Blue Earth, Minnesota.” 

That jolt in Julie’s chest at hearing from the man Pamela said might help him, brings focus. 

“Jim Murphy?” Her voice is too high. She clears her throat. “Pamela said Jim Murphy.” 

_ “The one and the same.” _ He has a light chuckle.  _ “I have been looking into Crossroad Deals involving children. So far I haven’t found anything. My suspicion is that you have been lied to and are being manipulated by a demon. However, I advise you to play along until I can confirm my suspicions.”  _

Rage erupts within Julie. This is exactly the sort of thing her mother would do. Trick her into doing a stranger’s bidding. But Jim is also right that, without proof, she is in a dangerous position and she could be playing with fire if she ignored the deal. 

“Thank you. Will you let me know when you find out more?” 

_ “Of course! I just wanted to ease some of your concern in the meantime.”  _

“Thank you. I’ll carry on as usual for now. I look forward to your call with confirmation. Will you need anything from me?” 

_ “I can’t say just yet, but I will contact you when I do.”  _

The call ends and Julie wonders if she even met Crowley. Was he another one of her mother’s conjured illusions on an actor? Julie feels so stupid. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The next one is being worked on. I know this is obvious, but it's always a lot to keep the plot moving, work on character arc and explore the themes that I want to look at. 
> 
> Let me know what you think, please.


End file.
